Bleak
by WizardsGirl
Summary: Bleak - Not hopeful or encouraging; unlikely to have a favorable outcome. Grim. (Or that one fic where Wizard got bored and wrote Angst) OC-Centric. M for Violence and Serial Killers and Maybe-Later scenes.
1. Bleak

**A/N:** Here's a random bit of whatever, sorry I haven't been updating for a while I guess, I just got a new job so I'm focusing on that at the moment.

Enjoy!

 **Bleak**

 _Bleak - Not hopeful or encouraging; unlikely to have a favorable outcome._ _ **Grim.**_

 **.0.**

Idelia Herrmann was a simple, easy-to-please child. Her mother, Karla, was a stay-at-home mom, more due to the fact she had been crippled in a hunting accident.

* * *

 _-"That can happen when hunting bears, süße," her mother told her, dark eyes gleaming almost-black in the dim light of the three-year-olds room._

 _"But why were you huntin' bears, Mama?" Idelia asked; her mother had just smiled, teeth gleaming in a sharp line across her olive-toned face._

 _"Because that's what I did best, süße."-_

* * *

Her father, Adimar, was always coming and going, sometimes bringing back the strangest of things, from feathers and pelts to weird-looking claws and fangs.

* * *

 _-"But what_ _ **is**_ _it, Papi?!" Idelia demanded, poking at the weird looking horn. It was oddly fleshy, despite looking like a small cow horn, and it made her skin_ _ **itch**_ _weirdly. Adimar smiled, dark eyes gleaming._

 _"It's the horn from a_ _ **Heftigauroch**_ _, Schätzchen," he told her; silently, the four-year-old mouthed the word, turning the horn in her hand carefully. Her father chuckled. "Give it a few years, little one," he told her, taking the horn back and placing it back onto its new spot on his office shelf, where many strange and fantastical bits and bobs from his trips rested. "We'll teach you everything you need to know then." Idelia pouted but nodded, and, as she followed the tall, lanky man out, she glanced back at the lone horn on its shelf and, shuddering as her skin_ _ **itched**_ _again, she wondered what had happened to the other horn.-_

* * *

Yes, Idelia may have had a bit of a _strange_ upbringing, considering her parents dynamics, but the soon-to-be seven-year-old couldn't have been happier, honest, she couldn't!

...

Except...

Well...

For a few weeks now, she had been having strange, horrible nightmares. Nightmares she _couldn't_ tell her parents about, because, her Mama and Papi were so nice and warm and caring, how _could_ she tell them that she was having horrible dreams about creature who hid behind human faces, and _killing_ them?! Especially the dreams she had where her _parents_ were killing them?!

She couldn't! She didn't want them to think she was a _bad girl_ or crazy or _scared_ of them!

So, she would bite her pillow and cry into it, instead of crawling into her parents bed like she used to.

She was a _big girl_ now! And no scary monsters would make her _bad_!

* * *

 _-Idelia was creeping carefully down to the kitchen. Her Mama had made cookies earlier, and, since she couldn't sleep, she might as well eat one! There were a bunch of them, after all!_

 _Just as she entered the kitchen, she froze, hearing footsteps coming down the hall; panicking, the six-year-old dove into a nearby cabinet and shrank against the pots and pans, trying not to make a sound as the barely-cracked open door let her see who it was. Silently, she watched her Mama and Papi close the door and lock it, and knew she was about to hear a_ _ **grown-up**_ _conversation! Fear forgotten, Idelia leaned forward carefully, eager to hear what was going on._

 _"Has she come to you yet?" Her Papi asked, he looked unusually serious and, eyes wide, Idelia watched them, fascinated._

 _"No," Her Mama replied, mouth thin as she shifted in her wheelchair. "I'm guessing by your questions, she hasn't come to you either?"_

 _"Nein," Papi replied; Mama crossed her arms and closed her eyes._

 _"She could be a late bloomer?" She offered; Idelia frowned, brow furrowing. Who were they talking about?_

 _"Has either of our families had a late bloomer?" Her Papi asked dryly; Mama shook her head reluctantly. "Every female in_ _ **both**_ _our families started the Dreams at five,_ _ **maybe**_ _one or two at six, but_ _ **never**_ _after," he pointed out seriously; Mama sighed softly, shoulders slumping, and this was the first time Idelia had ever seen the strong woman look_ _ **small**_ _._

 _"I know," she murmured, sighing. "...I had hoped to teach her how to Hunt," she murmured mournfully; Papi walked forward and knelt wrapping his arms around her Mama softly and pressing a kiss to her head._

 _"I know, Mein lieber. I was, too." They hugged for a few more minutes, before they pulled apart and, not saying a word, left the kitchen, Papi pushing Mama's chair out. Idelia waited for several moments, until her legs were starting to hurt from sitting on them so long, before she pushed the cabinet open and crawled out, mind full of questions._

 _Were they talking about_ _ **her**_ _?_

 _Cookies forgotten, the six-year-old slunk out of the kitchen and returned to her room, where she fell into a restless sleep.-_

* * *

It was the sound of fighting that woke the seven-year-old. Eyes wide, Idelia listened, and heard her Papi shouting her Mama's name, and the screeching shatter of glass. Heart pounding, terrified, Idelia climbed out of her bed and crawled under it, pulling with her the soft lamb-doll her teacher had given her for her birthday. She shivered, scared, and listened to the fighting get progressively worse, until there was a strange, cut-off sound and a thump, and the sound of something rolling across the floor. After that, there was silence, and Idelia blinking rapidly, tears sliding down her cheeks as her breath came in soft, short gasps, ears straining. There was a strange, dragging sound, and then the sound of slow, measured steps coming upstairs, and the little girl pushed herself as far back as she could against the wall behind her bed, biting back a whimper as the footsteps stopped outside her door.

Slowly, her door opened, whispering across her carpet, and Idelia tightened her hands on her Lamby, shivering, unable to look away as large black boots made their slow way across the floor and came to a stop just in front of her bed. As she stared, something dripped down from above, landing beside the boots with a soft, sound. Whatever it was, it was red, like the finger-paint they had used on Thursday in Art Class, but thinner, _wetter_ , and Idelia held her breath, body tight as a knot and tummy twisting unhappily at the smell of pennies coming from the stranger, and it _was_ a stranger. No one she knew had boots like that, and her Mama had always taught her to pay attention to strange things like that.

* * *

 _-"You can learn a lot about a person by the prints they leave behind, Idelia."-_

* * *

Her lungs were burning as she held her breath, watching that steady _drip-drip_ of red as the stranger just _stood there_. Why didn't they _move_?! Her hands were beginning to hurt from clutching Lamby so hard, shivering from the strain.

It happened suddenly, abruptly, and Idelia barely managed a startled scream when her bed was _lifted_ and _thrown away_ , her wide, dark eyes darting up and latching onto the face of one of the Monsters in her dream, his head bald and silvery-colored, with jagged gray-black striped. Poisonous yellow eyes glared down at her from a cat-like face, huge fangs dipping down from his sneering mouth like daggers, covered in red and, in one claws hand, a scythe-like weapon glinted with that red liquid.

Idelia scrambled back, but she was already against the wall, and all she could do was stare, horrified, as her head bounced off the soft, peach walls, her throat too tight from fear to make even a sound as she cowered, clutching Lamby hard enough to tear as she stared at the Monster.

"Hello, little Grimm," the Monster hissed, and Idelia, for a wild moment, wondered when the Monsters had learned to speak, because all they ever did in her dreams was snarl and hiss and scream and _die_ , and then wondered if this Monster was there to kill her like her family had killed his Monster friends in her dreams. He stepped forward, lifting his weapon menacingly, and Idelia found that she could sob, the sounds tearing from her throat painfully as she cringed away, finally ripping her eyes away to hide her face in her Lamby, crying hysterically.

" _It's just a dream!_ " She sobbed desperately, repeating the phrase as she had every night since her nightmares had started. " _It's just a DREAM!_ " The Monster chuckled darkly, and Idelia dropped Lamby to slap her hands over her ears, screaming her safety words into her knees as she curled into a ball, even as she felt the Monster kneel over her mockingly, that red-liquid dripping down onto her, lukewarm and slimy, like spit, or snot, and suddenly, Idelia was chocking on puke as her stomach _heaved_.

"Are you scared, little Grimm?" The Monster asked her mockingly, his growling voice loud enough for her to hear past her hands, and Idelia sobbed harder, choking and heaving even as she wet herself, too scared to care that she hadn't done that since she was three. A clawed hand grabbed her black curls viciously, yanking her head from her knees to stare blearily into that horrible, horrible face as those teeth grinned nastily at her.

" _Good_ ," he hissed, and lifted his weapon high in the air.

Idelia screamed, high-pitched enough to hurt her own ears, eye squeezing shut.

The Monster snarled and swung the weapon.

There was a loud, angry explosion.

Idelia continued to scream. She continued screaming even as the hand in her hair slowly fell away, and something heavy hit the ground in front of her. All she did was shove herself tighter into the wall, hands clamped tightly over her ears as she continued screaming, sobbing horribly between gasps of air.

Something touched her face and she screamed again, smacking her head harshly into the wall when she jerked away, eyes shooting open to see what the Monster was doing...

Only, it wasn't the Monster.

"Mama!" She warbled, throwing herself into her Mother, wrapping her trembling arms around the woman's neck desperately. In a distant, far-away part of her brain, Idelia realized her Mama wasn't in her chair, but had apparently crawl from wherever she'd been downstairs.

Warm liquid spread across Idelia's chest from where it pressed against her Mama's, even as those strong, gentle arms wrapped around her, protecting her from the world. Something hard and metal brushed her shoulder, and, from the corner of her eye, the traumatized child saw her Papi's favorite revolver, the one he took on his trips.

"Shh, _süße_ ," her Mama coaxed softly, moving them around until her Mama was the one against the wall, and Idelia was in her lap, face buried in her Mama's neck, ignoring the hot wetness that continued to steadily seep through her once-white nightshirt, shivering against her Mama in exhausted relief.

"The police are on their way, _süße_ , shh, it's alright," Mama whispered soothingly, her free hand dragging carefully, soothingly, through Idelia's messy black curls. "You'll be okay, _süße_ , I promise, okay? Hey, look, look at me," she coaxed; sniffling, Idelia obeyed, hiccuping as she continued crying. Her Mama's olive-toned face was abnormally pale, and she had some of that _horrible_ red liquid on her face, and Idelia decided it was an _ugly_ color, and she _hated_ it, and lifted a hand to wipe it away from her beautiful Mama's face, only to find her hand already covered in it. Confused, she tried to glance down, but Her Mama caught her chin and forced her to meet her eyes.

"Listen to me, Idelia," she told the girl firmly; Idelia sniffled and blinked at her uncertainly, the sound of police sirens growing in the distance. " _None_ of this was your fault, understand? Your Papi and I, we hurt people, we made them angry and this is _our_ fault, never yours, understand?"

"Mama?" Idelia asked, confused; her Mama wasn't making any sense! And her breathing was all funny, wet and hoarse and gasping now, it wasn't _right_!

"We are so _proud_ of you, _süße_ ," her Mama continued earnestly, smiling such a beautiful smile, one full of warmth and love and sweetness, her dark eyes glittering with tears. "You're the best of the two of us, without any of the darkness in our hearts. Idelia, listen to me, okay? _Don't_ become us," she whispered, an edge of desperation in her voice now. Her face was paler, more waxy than white, and that redness ( _Blood_ , whispered her mind, but Idelia refused to listen) edged out of the corners of her lips, bubbling strangely. "Don't... Don't become a Monster... to the Monsters... It only leads... to death..." Her Mama was struggling to continue, gasps and chocking sounds breaking up her words.

"Mama? Mama, stop!" Idelia begged, but her Mama continued firmly, as always.

"Grow up... And be.. a better... person... I lo..love you... So much, s- _süße_..." She chocked, and she suddenly began to couch and choke, dark eyes rolling as her body jerked beneath Idelia.

"Mama?! Mama!" Idelia shouted, clutching her Mama tightly, ignoring the sounds of people downstairs, the distant shouts of the police far from her mind as she screamed for her mother as she choked and that horrible redness spattered from her mouth onto Idelia's face.

* * *

 _-"What do you want to do when you're older, Idelia?" Papi asked, sitting in his favorite chair as the five-year-old perched on her Mama's lap, preening as the brush dragged smoothly through her curls._

 _"I wanna be a doctor!" She declared happily; the brush paused briefly, but continued moving._

 _"Oh?" Papi asked, smiling slightly. "You don't want to hunt, like your Mama and I?" Idelia shook her head firmly, giggling as her Mama bopped her on the head with the brush for moving. "Why not?" Idelia hesitated, and bit her lip a little looking down at her lap. The brush stopped and pulled away, and her Mama turned her a little, using two fingers to gently tilt her face back up so she could meet those dark eyes, gentle and warm, like the smile on her face._

 _"You can tell us, süße," she coaxed kindly; Idelia glanced at her Papi, who was sitting straighter in his chair. When he nodded encouragingly, she took a steady breath._

 _"I don't like hunting for sport," she managed to blurt, and, as if a dam had fallen, the words came spilling out. "Killin' for fun is_ _ **wrong**_ _, an' just killin' things 'cause they're different is_ _ **bad**_ _! Killin' for food, that's okay if you_ _ **really, really**_ _need it, but you shouldn't be greedy wif it, and killin' somethin' that attacks you is okay, but only if it's the_ _ **only**_ _thing you can do! Ms. Rogers, my teacher, says we shouldn't fight with fists if we can fight wif words an', an' that we shoudn't be mean to someone just 'cause they're diff'ent than us, 'cause that's called... umm..." Idelia frowned hard, trying to remember the word. "W-waysust?"_

 _"Racist, süße," Mama murmured, a strange look in her eyes, face oddly blank, but Idelia nodded firmly._

 _"Yeah, that!" She declared pointing at her Mama. "So, I wanna be a doctor, and help lots'a people, no matter what they look like or what they've done, and I don't wanna hunt 'cause there's no_ _ **reason**_ _for me ta hunt!" Huffing, Idelia crossed her hands, cheeks puffed out in determination as she stared first at her Mama, then at Papi, as the two grown-ups shared an odd, blank-faced look. Slowly, the brush returned to her hair, and Idelia slowly relaxed when they didn't scold her for being silly or stupid, like Billy Gosling did, especially when he was calling her names when she spoke Deutsche when she couldn't think of the English word for something._

 _"I think that's a wonderful dream, Schätzchen," her Papi murmured; Idelia beamed as her Mama kissed her temple in agreement._

 _"A very wonderful dream."-_

* * *

 _"MAMA!"_

 **A/N:** Wow, okay, that got darker than I really meant it too?

Sorry for all the obvious breaks, FF.N wouldn't let me do my personal Break which was a LOT more subtle...

Anyways...

Shall I continue it or leave it here?

If I continue it, it will be an angsty thing, just fyi, with heartwarming and heartrending bits and a traumatized girl growing into a Traumatized Grimm...

Yeah...

Not all Grimms have decent upbringings like Nick did, after all, and even if Idelia's parents were nice and she adored them, that didn't stop the fact that they were serial killers.

I hope I wrote that in properly?

 **Names & German:** _(Note, all German was retrieved from Google Translate, so, y'know, mistakes may have been made.)_

 _Herrmann_ \- German Surname, meaning: warrior, soldier. (According to .Com)

 _Idelia_ \- German. Means: Noble. (According to Babynamescountry)

 _Karla_ \- German. Means: An alternate form of Carla, the feminine form of Carl, signifying "strong.". (According to Babynamescountry)

 _Adimar_ \- German. Means: he whose battles have made him distinguished; celebrated and famous combatant. (According to Babynamescountry)

 _Karla's Injury_ \- Caused when she was hunting a _**Jägerbar**_ , a bear-like Wesen first seen in the Episode _**Bears Will Be Bears**_.

 _The Heftigauroch_ \- A Bull-like Wesen first seen in the Episode _**The Last Fight**_.

 _The Monster_ \- A _**Mauvais Dentes**_ , first seen in Episode _**Bad Teeth**_

 _Süße_ \- Sweetness (What I wanted it to be)

 _Schätzchen_ \- Poppet (What I wanted it to be)

 _Nein_ \- No

 _Mein Lieber_ \- My Dear (What I wanted it to be)

 _Deutsche_ \- German

Please Review!


	2. Forlorn

**A/N:** Special thanks to the amazing Reviewer, _**silverbluerose**_ , who left a wonderful first review that really made my day.

Last chapter's Word was the Title, _**Bleak**_! Each chapter will have a new word connected (usually synonymous) to the previous word!

Enjoy!

 **Bleak**

 _Forlorn - pitifully sad and abandoned or lonely._ _ **Bleak.**_

 **.1.**

Idelia stared blankly at the hospital ceiling, listening to the steady _beep...beep...beep_ of the machine next to her bed as her dark eyes traced over the tiles.

The doctors said she was in "Shock", and that was why she was so cold and empty feeling, but Idelia knew it was because her parents were never coming back and that she _knew_ now that the Monsters were real.

She _knew_ and there was _nothing she could do about it_ and, to make things worse? Her _parents_ knew, they'd _killed_ Monsters.

Monsters who hid behind human faces.

The police and the doctors tried to hide it from her, but she had heard the mutterings and gossiping nurses talk about her Papi's trophy shelf, had heard talk about _human DNA_ and _Cold Cases_ and that hated, _hated_ word.

 _Murderer_.

Her Papi wasn't like that, though! He was big hands and half-smiles and grand stories. He was hot-chocolate in winter and snowball fights and crayon drawings on the fridge. He was bedtime stories and hugs and dancing in the kitchen with Mama while music played on the radio!

He wasn't... Wasn't _that_ , though!

He wasn't a Monster.

He wasn't...

The ceiling was _fuzzy_ all of a sudden...

She was so tired...

She was...

Asleep.

* * *

 _-"Papi!" Idelia laughed as she was spun around, hern hands cluinging tight to her Papi's as he spun her, the two of them laughing._

 _"You're lifting off, Schätzchen! Look out!" he laughed, and pulled her close before letting go of her hands, making the five-year-old screech as she was, breifly, airbourne, before she landed with a "Oomph!" in a pile of leaves. Her Mama was laughing where she sat off to the side, drinking coffee in her wheelchair, a checkered blanket over her legs. Giggling dizzily, Idelia sat up, blinking as she swayed in place while her Papi laughed at her._

 _"Papi!" She whined, giggling as he threw himself into the leaves with her. "You're too big!"_

 _"You're_ _ **never**_ _too big to play, Schätzchen!" he told her, and promptly scooped leaves up onto his head and lifted his chin proudly._

 _The autumn air filled with laughter as her Papi grinned down at her.-_

* * *

The Social Services lady, Ms. Durban, was okay enough, Idelia supposed. She had caramel-colored skin and black hair and dark eyes, but, best of all, _her face didn't change when Idelia stared_. Not like that man with the broken arm who'd passed her room, his pale, chubby face turning into a beavers when she stared at it from her window, before she'd hidden in one of the cabinets and cried because she thought he might come and get her.

The doctors had to give her a shot that made the room spin and go fuzzy before everything had gone black and, when she woke up next, Ms. Durban had been sitting next to her in her dark purple dress-suit and her kind, distant smile.

Still, no matter how alright Ms. Durban was, she would _never_ be Mama.

Idelia rolled over and gave the woman her back, uncaring that she was still talking, drowning out her words with the _beep...beep..._ of the machine, watching the little green lines move until she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 _-The first time she'd seen her Mama's scars, she had touched them without thinking, making her Mama still and lower her pretty blouse slowly. They were soft, and strangely smooth despite looking bumpy. Thick as her thumb at their thinnest, and wide as her wrist at their thickest, the four claw marks started under her Mama's right armpit and curved across and down her back. Deep, pinkish-purple-silver lines in her skin where the bumps dipped in, carving out hunks of her beautiful Mama that would never grow back._

 _"Did it hurt really bad?" She asked softly; her Mama loked over her shoulder, dark eyes gleaming, mouth unsmiling and thin._

 _"Very much," she replied, voice soft and quiet and Idelia stilled, her skin_ _ **itching**_ _in that strange way it sometimes did in her Papi's study. Idelia stared at her Mama carefully, her muclses still and tight, like that time Mr. Bray's big, mean-looking dog had gotten out of his yard and had come stalking towards her, growling. She'd been still like this then, ready to run or kick him in the nose, eyes locked on the big, tan-and-black dog warily, heart beginning to pound._

 _Her Papi had come and gotten her away then, but he wasn't there now, so it was up to her to make the feeling go away._

 _Discision made, Idelia leaned forward and pressed a soft, careful kiss to the top-most claw, leaning away again._

 _"There," she declared firmly, nodding and meeting her Mama's eyes again. "All better now, yes?" She watched that glitter in her Mama' eyes soften, her thin lips relax and curl fondly, and grinned back, bright as she could._

 _"Yes, süße," her Mama agreed softly. "All better..."-_

* * *

"Welcome to our home, Idelia," The man told her warmly; the dark-haired girl stared up at him, and at his warmly smiling family warily. These were the Lloyds, her foster family for the foreseeable future. The man who greeted her was tall and lean with brown hair and gray eyes and a strange dip in his left cheek when he smiled, and his name was Ron. His wife, Julie, was short with blond hair and pretty blue eyes and kinda round but her smile was sweet. Their daughter, Mandy, was ten, and sorta half-smiled at Idelia while shoving her brown hair behind her ear, blue eyes curious.

"...Hallo," the soon-to-be eight-year-old told them quietly.

"Come on," Mandy blurted, before the staring could get awkward. "I'll show you your room, since it's right next to mine." The older girl offered her hand, and, tentative, Idelia took it.

As she was dragged down the hall of the nice-seeming family, Mandy chatting about how her new room used to be the play room, Idelia decided she would give these people a chance.

They would never be her family, but at least they weren't Monsters.

There was a Monster at her new school, and Idelia was torn. On one hand, it was one of _them_ , hidding it's true face behind the freckled visage of a little blond girl two years younger than her, who had big green eyes and a gap-toothed smile.

On the _other_ hand...

It was a bunny-monster, with golden-brown fur and huge, floppy ears and a wiggly nose.

So, Idelia was torn between fear and hate, and the urge to pet its ears.

It was just so confusing, and the Monster just kept _following her around the playground_ , nibbling carrots and staring at her in fascination, because, _apparently_ , you weren't supposed to _see_ the bunny-part of the Monster.

* * *

 _-"Not a Monster, silly! I'm Samantha!" The bunny-thing declared indignantly the first time Idelia hissed at it to go away._

 _"Yes you are!" Idelia spat unhappily, climbing higher on the monkey bars as the other tried to follow while holding onto its little bag of baby carrots. "_ _ **Real People**_ _don't look like_ _ **Bunnies**_ _!" The Monster's ears shot up in surprise, wet, round eyes widening._

 _"You can see my fur?!" It squeaked; Idelia huffed._

 _"Of course I can," she snapped scathingly, carefully climbing to her feet on the topmost bar, balancing with a strange amount of ease. "It's_ _ **there**_ _!"_

 _"No one else can see it," the Monster insisted; Idelia scoffed and leaped away, landing hard and falling to her knees. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the sting of her fresh scrapes as she started running away. The Monster followed, but stayed out of reach._

 _It was the beginning of their game of Tag, but Idelia never really knew who was actually it._

 _The Monster ("My_ _ **Name**_ _is_ _ **Samantha**_ _!") didn't seem to know either._

* * *

After a month of constantly being chased around the playground, Idelia was tempted to just _hit_ the bunny-Monster, because she... it... _Samantha_ wouldn't just _leave her alone_.

Luckily, however, she never had to make that choice.

"What do you mean, I'm leaving?" She asked Ms. Dunbar in uncertain confusion. Mandy had stormed out crying, the two of them having gotten relatively close in the last three months Idelia had lived with the Lloyds. Julie looked ready to cry as well, and Ron look depressed but solemn, one long, lanky arm wrapped soothingly around his wife's shoulders.

"We had some issues getting your paperwork all filed properly, sweetheart," the Social Services Worker informed the girl gently, smiling that same kind, distant smile she used to have in the hospital. "Now that its all taken care of, we can move you to another foster family. The Ortega's are wonderful people, and they even have a little boy your age!" Idelia stared at her, and slowly, the realization that she was being passed around like...

Like...

Like a pudding pack at _lunch_! Only, only she _wasn't_ pudding at all!

She was an _apple_ and she just...!

"I hate you," She told Ms. Dunbar, and she was bitterly happy to see that nice _fake_ smile disappear for the first ime under a startled look, before she turned and ran out the front door, ignoring the shouts behind her, her skin _**itching**_ and her eyes bruning with tears as she darted down the street and aroudn houses. The little yappy-dog that always barked at everybody that came near tried to bark at her, but she glared at it, _**itching**_ and it whined and hid in its little house.

She continued to run, no real destination in mind, just a desperate need to get _away_ from the horrible woman who had seemed so nice.

An hour later, when the police picked her up from the park, she'd learned a valuable lesson, and the happy-go-lucky girl from long ago grew farther and farther away.

 _Not all the Monsters_ _ **had**_ _other faces hidden away._

* * *

 _-"Why are your apples blue?" a boy's voice asked; Idelia looked up from her coloring, frowning at the sight of Bryan Yancy peering over from where he was coloring in the trucks on their homework. They had all been given pictures and told to write a story about the scene. Idelia had gotten an apple tree with a cat sleeping under it, and he had gotten a truck driving down a windy road towards a mountain._

 _"Because I can," she old him, turning back to her drawing; Bryan scoffed loudly._

 _"That's_ _ **stupid**_ _!" He declared loudly, getting the teacher to glance over from where he was helping Monica Fields spell 'beautiful'. "Apples are_ _ **red**_ _, dummy!" Idelia's hands clenched at the word, hard enough to break the crayon in her hand._

 _"Shut up!" She snapped at him, glaring furiously, dark eyes flashing in the lights. She didn't notice him take a step back. "That's a stupid,_ _ **ugly**_ _color! I_ _ **hate**_ _it!" Panting a bit, Idelia turned abruptly away and scowled down at her apple tree, the blue circles taht were her apples gleaming against the yellow-greed tree top. "_ _ **My**_ _apples are better! They'll_ _ **never**_ _have to turn red," she whispered, and carefully lifted the broken half of her crayon to finish coloring, as Mr. Collins moved Bryan to another table and came to sit next to her._

 _"Are you okay, Idelia?" he asked, his voice soft and low; Idelia sniffled, eyes burning as she blinked, tryign to finish her coloring._

 _"I_ _ **hate**_ _that color," she whispered to him, swallowing when her throat grew tight enough to hurt. "I_ _ **hate**_ _it."_

 _Later on, she was asked to stay after as Mr. Collins talked to the principle, and then to the Lloyds when they came to pick her up. She didn't know what they talked about, only that her foster parents came out looking tired and sad, even when they smiled at her blue apples and hung them on the fridge._

 _All she knew is that, from then on, when they colored in class, her box of crayons didn't have any reds in it and, for some reason, that made her feel safer than she had in_ _ **weeks**_ _._

* * *

Idelia didn't get to go to the supposedly-nice Ortega family after that. They were afraid she'd run away again, and the Ortega family didn't want to risk losing her in the big city they lived in, so, instead, she had to stay with this weird old lady that collected old newspapers and had six chiuahuas.

They were cute, she supposed, but all Idelia wanted was to go back to the Lloyds.

To go back to her nice, blue room and play Go Fish with Mandy when they're homework was all done.

Back to helping Julie make pancakes when it was so early it was still dark out, because Idelia had had a nightmare and couldn't sleep anymore, and Julie had gotten up because her Restless Leg Syndrome had kicked in a half-hour before.

Back to being pushed on the swings by Ron when the mechanic had gotten off work early and taken the girls to the park as a treat.

Back to Mr. Collins, and her special box of crayons with no reds.

Even back to Monster-Samantha and her staring and twitching ears and soft, pitter-patter steps following her all over.

Back to when she hadn't known Monsters could be Real People too.

She missed her Mama and Papi.

She missed her old house.

She missed _home_.

* * *

 _-"Don't... Don't become a Monster... to the Monsters... It only leads... to death..." Her Mama was struggling to continue, gasps and chocking sounds breaking up her words._

 _..._

 _"Mama? Mama, stop!"_

 _..._

 _"Grow up... And be.. a better... person... I lo..love you... So much, s-süße..."_

 _.._

 _"MAMA!"-_

She was tired of being scared all the time.

She was just so _tired_ of it.

 **A/N:** Shorter than the last and pretty abrupt there at the ending, but I think I did an okay-job at her starting to adjust a bit right?

Children are resilient little shits, and Grimms have that extra dash of Instinct that helps in such cases.

DISCLAIMER!

I do not hate Social Services or their Workers!

I do not!

If you work with Social Services, or have been in Foster Care, and nothing bad happened to you, Yay! Good job!

If you have worked with them, or something bad happened, I am sorry and I hope you're life is filled with good fortune from now on!

Please do not snipe at me for painting what I'd think is a semi-realistic view of Social Services! Any advice you can off is welcomed!

Danke!

(The Only German really used in this chapter was all explained last chapter, except for **Hallo** which is pretty self-explanatory anyways)

 **Notes:**

 _Beaver-man at the hospital_ \- An _**Eisbiber**_ (Like Bud! Love Bud...) First seen in Episode _**Danse Macabre**_.

 _Samantha the Bunny Monster_ \- I didn't know there actually _was_ a Bunny Wesen, I haven't gotten that far in the series and am using the Wikia for my Wesen Info for the most part, but apparently it's called a _**Willahara**_ (First seen in Episode _**Bad Luck**_ ) so, you know, yay! ^-^ I just wanted to make a non-threatening Wesen interaction, you know?

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


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